Reaping the Benefits
by SesshiraRayu
Summary: Identical twins should be just that, identical in all physical traits correct? However, if it possible for only one to suffer a slight enough gene change from the other, to be much more than she could have ever anticipated? Delilah would never know in her settled life, but what if Fate shook it all up? Pain is immeasurable in her life, but is that light at the end of the tunnel?
1. Midnight Treks

A woman sighed as she filed papers in the dank dimness of the storage room. She was garbed in a simple gray pencil skirt with a nice blue satin blouse, with black and cork pumps and some new trend; bead jewelry. As a chilled gust met her bared neck, she shuddered. Casting a look around in suspicion, she hurriedly filed the rather large stack that was pressed against one breast and her arm.

She was definitely not an eyesore, which is most likely how she landed this job, despite her inexperience, though five years had cured that. A heavenly mix of coffee and caramel hair was pulled into a tight braided bun atop of her head. From the lack of outdoors, her skin was only three shade from pale, ivory really. It was flawless though, without freckles, scars or any other blemishes. Blessed with long legs, the woman used her soft curves to keep the attention of her interests, though she currently had none. Grey eyes from behind a pair of glasses tried not to express too much emotion. She was delicate. She was beautiful. She was dedicated. She was Delilah.

As her pumps clicked from her movement, she cringed, praying that it seemed just a creak from the overburdened filing cabinets. Silently, she finished her stack and glanced at her watch, 11:35. It mocked her because it meant that she was early enough to catch the new rumors. Inaudibly, she tip-toed toward the small group of gossiping fellow secretaries. Since her sister's death, they isolated her from their rumor mills, due to the fact they now gossiped about that sore subject.

Amelia, the typical blond-haired, blue-eyed Southern belle, drawled in her normal leader tone about a new club called "Frisky". She droned on about how the club's owner was putting it up for auction and how it had been recently busted by a complicated drug string from the Chicago PD.

"I hear that they're killing anyone who stumbles on their secret meeting to discuss who will run it next." Amelia smirked as the ladies all gasped and whispered more excitedly, since the previous owner had been busted for drugs and now prostitution. "I hear from Madison, who works that the police station, that they think fifteen people have been killed in the last week alone." proclaimed the Southern belle.

Claire soon nodded, as if on cue. "Yes, I heard that the FOH are using that as a meeting place." she murmured, making Avery gasp in surprise. The women got quiet as they pondered what heinous thing the FOH might commit next. Delilah, who was behind the cabinets, bit her fist trying not to make a noise. 'Oh, sis, is that why they murdered you?'

* * *

A figure rose from behind the rancid scent of a overfull dumpster. It was tall, for a woman, but with the practiced grace that a cat would approve of. Willowy limbs swung in rhythm as the figure walked down the dank darkness of the alley. Her footsteps were faint with the soles from her steel-toed leather boots. There was a faint bass trembling the buildings around her. As she flipped some stray hairs over her shoulder to join their sisters that were connected to her high ponytail, she paused as she scanned the back-door of the infamous club, the "Frisky", a not so cleverly hidden meeting place.

However, the figure screams of mystery. With a long ponytail, whose ends would brush her mid-back, and equally long bangs framing her face, there was no doubt of beauty. The face would stun those that saw it clearly, with eyes the color of a constantly shifting storm of gray with amber bursts. The brew was framed by black tribal tattoo that screamed of danger with its fiery pattern. It spread from her hair-line to her cheeks, leaving her perfectly accented crimson lips.

As she pressed herself against the cement of the wall as a group of men left the club to make a circle around another male, who seemed to be a little less for wear. As she watched the circle of questions and battery, from a safe distance from the alcove.

To anyone watching, the figure blended nicely into this dark side of Chicago city. She breathed in and smiled like a cat for a canary. She slunk past the hulking figures used as bouncers for the nightclub, though it was questionable if that was all they were meant for. As she past another rancid dumpster to crouch behind, she glanced her watch on her right wrist. It's blue digits read 11:35.

She grinned as she could now hear the questions from the boss, a graying older man in slacks and a nice blue dress shirt. The lackeys ushered the bouncers inside as the boss landed a heavy kick to the other male, who seemed to be the new figurehead of the club. The younger man's expensive suit was getting whatever this alley collected, no doubt a mixture of alcohol, vomit and garbage.

"What do you mean that $30 mil, is not enough?" inquired the leader. His gaze locked on the pitiful male.

Spitting out a glop of spit and blood, the younger one looked cockily up. "There's been a higher bid." he ground out, ignoring the look of the apparent bidder. "If you can't top that by Friday, then someone else who bids higher gets the club."

Sighing, the boss picked up the male and pinned him to the wall as his four cronies watched, jeering. "Here's how this is going to work. Your boss is going to take my bid of $30 million and he doesn't have to clean up all the bodies of his staff."

The younger man glared at the older one. "Sorry, pops, but my boss scares me more than you."

* * *

Silently, the secretary crouched behind several cabinets as her co-workers moved. Five of them and they were sorting and filing the stacks of reports, complaints and such from the day. Isabella, the youngest secretary at the age of 19, bless her mind, asked Amelia what else she had heard from Madison.

Amelia, in her expensive designer suit and heels, smiled. "I also hear that there might be a new Kingpin." Hannah, with her older plump frame, scoffed. Ignoring the grandmother of two, Amelia continued. "They saw he likes to torture mutants and sympathizers, by slowly killing them. They call him 'Grim', because he reaps the souls from mutants and mutant lovers."

Claire, with the Asian eyes, looked around and whispered. "I hear he uses a special weapon to do it and it leaves wounds like chains with spiked balls at the ends." The hidden woman's eye widen at the verdict from the doctor that flashing in her mind's eye.

Avery shook her head, making her long raven tresses fly all over the place. "Listen to you all." she scolded, normally kind brown eyes hard. "No wonder Delilah doesn't like rumors."

Hannah looked at her watch. "It is almost midnight, you gossiping fillies. Finish up so we can go home." Acknowledging the advice/command, the younger women scurried around finishing the stack of paperwork. Hannah ran into woman's hiding place. "Go home child, and spend time with your newborn, Delilah."

The mentioned spy smiled and waited until they were a few rows away before slipping away out the door. The older woman scurried away before Isabella or Avery went looking for her. Leaning against the wall next to the door, Delilah looked at the florescent lights on the ceiling. "Oh, Danielle. Why you?" she questioned the soul of her sister, most likely watching over her and Nolan.

* * *

Licking her lips, the woman stood and leaned against one of the two corners that served as an entrance to the alcove that the men were fighting in. She was bathed in the soft light from above the club's backdoor, yet no one seemed to notice her presence.

The stare battle of not blinking continued for a few minutes before the boss threw the younger man to the ground, allowing his minions to kick and beat him senseless. Raising an eyebrow, the woman wondered when notice would be taken to her. Not having to wait long as the men stopped as their boss whistled. They backed off and the boss looked at her.

"Oh, don't stop on my account." smirked the woman, licking her crimson lips seductively. "I was hoping for some fun, but I can wait." Greedy eyes looked her over.

Her style was strange, but not too odd. The coat she wore that showed off generous amounts of cleavage, was sleeve-less with a high collar. The vest continued downward to a zipper that ended above her belly button. A silver and obsidian piercing held attention to that exposed area of flesh.

As the lusty eyes continued down, they drank in sight of black skin-tight jeans that were fastened by a silver studded leather belt. The buckle was an oversized silver rectangle. The coat, which continued half-way down her calves, fanned out after the zipper, but concealed the rest of the belt, but for an inch on either side of the buckle.

Completing the look was a pair of leather gloves and a pair of lace-up black leather boots over the jeans, with a generous three inch heels. Smirking at the men, the woman glanced at the man on the ground. "I can offer a good time if you are done with him." she offered, her words causing the cronies to look pleadingly at their boss.

Stepping toward the alluring figure, the boss smiled. "I will finish with him, then we can have some fun, sweet-stuff." he promised, as he held out his hand for the mace that one of the cronies handed him. The mace had a polished black handle with leather strips creating the grip. What fascinated the woman most was the three steel chains that ended in spiked balls.

The younger man paled as the boss stalked toward him. Suddenly, the 'sounds of the city' faded away. "So you are the one, who tried to kill me." commented the woman, who pushed herself off the wall.

The lackeys moved in front of their boss protectively. "What?" asked the middle-aged man behind them.

The woman clapped. "Really, Grim." she scolded. "You should remember who you try to kill with that lovely thing."

The new Kingpin's eyes narrowed as he now ignored the male he was intending to finish. The cronies looked slightly worried as their boss gave them the finger-snap to attack. They fanned out to attack, but the woman smiled. "Oh right, a private conversation."

Storm gray turned into a swirling of amber, the gray being the flecks now. The eyes narrowed as the men suddenly clung to their heads and screaming, but they soon collapsed with blood running out of their ears. "You know, you should never leave a job unfinished. Too bad, you picked the wrong one to try." scolded the woman. "I am the Reaper. You are finished."

Shivering in fear, the mutant-hater watched the woman and began to scream for help, but none would come as she took his mace and killed him with it. She gazed at the male on the ground. You will tell me everything." she commanded.

Shuddering, he proceeded to share everything he knew from the Friends of Humanity meetings and them being the highest bidder at $1 billion. He split everything, blubbering at the end, praying she wouldn't kill him. When he opened his eyes after a particular bout of loud sobs, he opened to the two bouncers standing near him, confused by the damage, but no one else. He glanced at his watch, 12:00.


	2. Days of Ire

"Oh my god, I am never going to survive this damn heat." Delilah muttered under her breath. She was only a few steps from work, but felt like a fish out of the water and in the frying pan... alive. Brushing the morbid thought aside, she eagerly climbed the last step to freedom. Stepping out of the humid summer heat, the overheated woman tried not to shiver as she pushed through the revolving door into the air conditioned lobby of the prestigious firm Kinzer & Kinzer Law.

The couple who owned the firm had three secretaries each, to make sure each part of the business ran smoothly. Mr. Kinzer, an older man in his early sixties, was her primary boss, though she has had to respond to the commands of his wife, Sarah. While Mr. Kinzer was looking like he was in his late forties, Sarah was rather ageless – with the use of chemicals no doubt. Designer everything made Sarah look like a trophy wife, though if Delilah had one guess, Amelia and Claire were taking that area of their relationship.

Inhaling in the fresh cool air, Delilah gave a crisp nod to the mocha-skinned beauty who worked the front desk before stopping to chat with her in the empty room.

Avery smiled at Delilah, knowing it would be soon that the sweet woman would don her very icy queen cape. "Good morning, chika." she greeted, waving the woman over.

Delilah eagerly approached waiting for the workday forecast. "So what's the verdict?" she asked her people meteorologist. Her voice was betraying her eagerness to be forewarned. Knowledge is power after all.

Avery sighed. "If the fact that Sarah arrived first in a huge fit isn't clue enough, Mr Kinzer..." she trailed off, trying to think of a less explicit way of phrasing it. "Was glued to Amelia and Claire when he dragged them upstairs. Prepare for the usual." she concluded.

Delilah breathed a sigh of relief. "Usual is Amelia and Claire making him and his clients drool all day, which is perfectly fine with me." She brushed the thin sheet of sweat off her forehead, glad to be cooler. "Though if he jeopardizes my weekend again..."

Avery laughed at the familiar threat. "You know, I would hate to see what you'd do to the poor bastard if you lost your job." Her green hazel eyes sparkled at the thought of that lecher finally getting what was coming to him.

Delilah smirked and winked at the receptionist. "You would see it by the six o'clock news." she promised as Avery's hardy giggles followed her.

Instead of risking being stuck in the small elevator with a lecherous client, Delilah gladly walked up the stairs, with one hand fixing her hose. Today, she wore a knee-length light pink skirt, with a darker pink blouse. The blouse made her stomach and waist look lean without making her breasts look large or showing much cleavage, which was a necessity when working for Mr. Jeffery Kinzer, but her outfit would not be complete without the two brass bracelets that always blessed her wrists.

Donning the persona of being ice, Delilah pulled off not being approachable. It protected her well, except for that one incident. Brushing that thought aside, she finished her climb to the third floor. Opening the stair's exit, an eyebrow raised. 'Well, that's not something I see often.' she thought in a mixture of surprise and disgust. 'Not that I want to.'

Pinned up against the wall was Clarie, whose skirt was around her waist from her legs being wrapped like a snake around the lean waist of Mr. Kinzer. She also had her bare arms wrapped around his head. Her fingers no doubt in his artificially brown locks. Delilah's boss, on the other hand, had his hands roaming the expanse of her stomach and breasts, which were thankfully still covered by a button-up shirt.

The scene was not complete without Amelia, below the make out session, to be behind Mr. Kinzer. Her mouth on the older man's neck and ears as her hand was in the space between Claire's legs and Mr. Kinzer. The trio's hair was mussed and obviously this had not been the first time they'd been together this morning. Delilah did ponder why the hell they were in the hallway of all places.

Before anyone could notice her or Delilah's breakfast could greet the world, Delilah whipped out the key to her office and vanished inside. She even locked the door for good measure.

Lovely.' she thought as she put her purse safely in the bottom locked drawer of her file cabinet. Putting a cool hand to her forehead, she retrieved her daily planner, opening to the new day. Frowning, she gazed through the page and sighed. "Another day of phones, paper and harassment..." As she trailed off, she plugged in her phone, which started to ring ten seconds later.

A brave face put on her headset and pulled out a notepad as her computer whirred to life. "Hello, you have reached the office of Jeffery Kinzer, business lawyer. May I have your company name and complaint?" she stated for the first time for that day.

* * *

A few hours later, close to eleven in the morning, Delilah placed her headset down. She was lucky that she'd been at this for a few years, or she might track down and slay the idiotic employees for several companies.

A pile of compalints and other folder mocked her as she sat back, but alas as she begun to relax her connection to Mr. Kinzer's office rang. "Yes?" answered Delilah in a cool tone. She could hear giggling from Amelia and Clarie from the background.

"Hi, Delilah." greeted Mr. Kinzer, trying to flirt.

"Is there anything you need?" Delilah asked coldly. "I do have the CEO of Johnson on hold." she added, knowing that would kick her boss's head of the gutter and finish.

"Oh!" he exclaimed. "Well, when you are done can you pick up my usual from Double Dragon?" he asked flustered now.

"Yes. Is that all?" Delilah was getting her purse out of the filing cabinet as she had her headset on. With Mr. Kinzer's decline, she hung up and took off the headset and disconnected the phone. "I get to be his delivery boy... again." she stated to the clock, in obvious disgust and annoyance.

As she locked her office, Delilah tried to ignore the faint thumps down the hall from someone being pressed against the door. Quickly taking the steps, she entered the lobby. Avery was on the phone and typing at her computer at her insane pace, but paused long enough to give Delilah a curt wave.

Rolling her eyes, Delilah secretly enjoyed the errand. It got her out of that drab office that was her home from eight am to easily nine pm. It was quaint though. A large desk with a hutch attachment that made it simple for her to organize various office supplies. A rolling chair and a nice little recliner in the corner for clients that had to wait long periods. She even comfortably fit a bookcase and three filing cabinets.

Delilah unknowingly broke her facade to smirk in amusement at a couple who were obviously on the first date. 'It's been so long.' she thought, now deep in thought. No one to warm her bed at night and be the one she woke up to. No one to massage the stress from her muscles. No one to ask her how her day went without kissing her to make up for being away.

The quaint little Chinese place wasn't too far, but it felt like eternity in this heat. Delilah was softly fanning herself when she walked in. "Hey, Al." she greeted the male chef, who was operating the cash register for another regular.

The older Asian grinned from ear to ear. "I was hoping he'd send you." he said in his usual grumble of Chinese and English accent. Delilah raised an eyebrow in question as he reached down to take out two Styrofoam boxes of takeout. "I got your favorite." he smiled, lovingly.

Delilah's heart felt like it melted from the warmth of a volcano. "Oh, Al. Thank you so much." she gushed, so happy that someone let God smile on her. He raised a hand before she could say much more.

"I heard the sluts in the background, I figured you needed some Al creations to make you happy." he explained, as Delilah gave him a hug.

"It worked." She gave the now faintly blushing man a kiss on the cheek, before waving at his wife, who had a faint smile on her lips from the exchange. With a new skip in her step, Delilah gladly walked in the heat to work to eat Al's off-the-menu creation.

When Delilah inhaled the sweet Autumn-like coolness of the lobby, she sensed something wrong. Avery was fidgeting with her long black tresses when Delilah waltzed into the lobby. A strange man seemed to be bothering the poor woman. Plastering on an annoyed gaze, Delilah glowered at the man. "Please don't bother the receptionist, she didn't look up when I entered." commanded Delilah with a icy edge.

The man turned startled. He was decent looking, maybe five inches taller than Delilah. With dirty blonde hair and hazel eyes, he had the presence of a athlete. His clothes were well worn for his dress shirt, slacks and shoes. Turning tail, she marched to the stairs and climbed them with practiced ease. She made it to the second floor before the lobby entrance even opened.

Now in a genuinely foul mood, Delilah took out her lunch, placing it under her purse's secret compartment, before continuing down the hall to her boss's office. Rapping firmly once on the door, she entered.

Amelia was adjusting her mini-skirt, no doubt from some expensive store, her silk blouse wrinkled and barefoot. Thankfully, Mr. Kinzer was behind his desk to hide any further incriminating evidence. Without a word, Delilah placed the neat pile of the Styrofoam box, the small containers of sauce and a silver fork that her boss insisted on being served with, on the desk.

"Enjoy the rest of your lunch, sir." Not even bothering to glance at Amelia, Delilah marched back to her own four walls of privacy. Her heart was pumping with the rage that threatened to overbalance her. Taking in some shaky breaths, Delilah opened her gray eyes to be completely and utterly calm.

With lunch not being for another few hours, she settled down in her chair, adjusted her headset, then the phone was plugged back in.

Calling the limo driving company that the firm preferred, Delilah arranged for the pick up and drop off to a party that Mr. and Mrs. Kinzer were attending that Saturday. The dry cleaners were informed of a new order for a cleaning of the formal attire that seemed to be required. Also arranging the separate hotel rooms, Delilah smiled as she unplugged her phone for lunch.

* * *

As she ate, Delilah pondered if her job was worth the six figure pay. It covered the bills well and allowed her the freedom that her last job denied, but... she could not help but wonder if there was more to life than working for this dysfunctional firm. As she scraped the last of the lo mein into her mouth, Delilah came to a conclusion. She would leave Chicago if she didn't have a job.

Fives years she had lived here, Chicago was her newest home. However, the collection of bad things to happen in this year alone... She could not bear anymore bad luck this city now had to offer. From the most recent reason, her sister's death, she was denied that there was a God that smiled upon her.

Sighing, Delilah put her headset back on her bun and plugged in the phone, which rang as in on cue. Plastering on a fake smile, she answered it. "Hello, you have reached the office of..." she began.

"Does that idiot still not have caller ID for you?" demanded a familiar voice, which both startled and amused Delilah.

"Hello Hannah, what do you need?" Delilah chuckled though, since it was Thursday she could guess what was needed.

Huffing, the older woman seemed to get closer to the phone to whisper. "I need a favor." Raising an eyebrow, Delilah waited for her to continue. "I'm going to get Mrs. Kinzer's lunch, but I am in the middle of writing a report. If I give you the files, can you write it so that I can get her lunch from that bistro across town?" pleaded the grandmother of two.

Shaking her head, Delilah tried not to giggle. "I suppose. Drop off the files, if anyone asked what you are doing, tell them that they are files for Mrs. Kinzer's latest domestic battery case and requires a neutral third party to read." instructed the secretary, knowing no one who even bother with the older female.

In about ten minutes, Hannah had passed on the report and such, which Delilah finished in between calls and Mr. Kinzer's nagging. It took an hour for Hannah to return, which was no surprise because of the traffic. Sighing, Delilah wondered why Mr. Kinzer was paying Amelia and Claire for the work she was doing. She could safely bet that the two women where there for sex and looks, not much else.

Sighing at the last call of the day, Delilah set down her headset. Tidying up her desk from the clutter of notes and her planner now having plenty more entries, she picked up the rather large collection of complaints, invitations and other files.

The hefty bundle of invitations were placed on the long empty desk of Mr. Kinzer. They were properly sorted by the importance of the sender and the date of the event. Another pile of the court appearances were also placed on the desk, arranged by date.

Sighing, Delilah switched the armful of other files to her right arm as she used her left to steady her down the stairs. Isabelle and Hannah were not due to leave for another two hours, but she had gotten off light since Amelia and Claire spent the entire day with Mr. Kinzer, making him leave with them early. Her outfit and personality had apparently worked, since he didn't have one sexist comment all day.

"Thank the Heavens for small miracles." breathed Delilah, as she finished up her work in order to return home to her own bundle of joy.

* * *

Walking through the front door and seeing a mess like an army of teens had been eating pizza, soda and popcorn wasn't the idea of a welcoming homecoming that Delilah expected, but that'll teach her to allow Sandy to have some girlfriends over.

Smiling slightly, she could hear the girls singing a lullaby in unison in her bedroom. Stalking up the stairs, she peered into her room to see five girls all under eighteen, surrounding Nolan, who was whimpering behind his pacifier. Leaning against the door frame, Delilah waited until she noticed that her baby boy just wanted his mother.

"I see that you got distracted from your movie." greeted Delilah, causing the girls' heads to swivel to her in surprise.

They shushed her as Sandy rocked Nolan. "I thought you weren't going to home for a while longer. He started brawling in the middle of Kungfu Panda." Delilah chuckled, amused that teens loved children's movies, not that she complained.

Setting her purse down and fishing out a twenty, Delilah traded Sandy the money for the baby, who gurgled with happiness to see his mother. "I wasn't either, but I did." she teased the girls. "Now, when I was your age... I would be taking that twenty and going to mall." The girls looked excited. "But... I expect a clean kitchen and living room first." she finished, making the teens groan half-heartedly.

Giggling, Delilah watched as the girls eagerly piled out of her room and started on the chore of cleaning her house. Nolan nuzzled her breast, eager for some 'real milk' as Danielle called it. Sighing, the woman sobered at the thought of her sister.

Pulling up her blouse and her bra down, the little mouth clamped on her nipple and started to feast. Rolling her eyes, Delilah looked down at her little trooper. He had been through just as much as she had. Rocking in the chair, it wasn't too long before Nolan was peacefully asleep and slumbering in his crib beside her bed.

Sandy rushed inside to say goodbye and went off with her friends, for a well deserved break. Lovingly, Delilah recalled how that girl was such a snoop when she first moved into this house five years ago.

A good hour later, Delilah stepped downstairs to lock all the doors and windows, a habit long in practice. Then to the kitchen the silent woman paced from the fridge to the stove making herself some decent dinner. She paused as she remembered how her sister would make herself breakfast and her some dinner before she headed out to work. 'Such is the life of security guard.' mused Delilah.

After a meal of chicken and vegetable lasagna, Delilah settled down on the living room couch to watch this Kungfu Panda. Sipping a large bottle of water, she had to admit Hollywood did put out some family oriented films that she didn't mind taking Nolan to when he was older.

Thinking of Nolan, she checked on the sleeping babe, taking a photo of him to remember this moment by. Slipping under her own covers, she knew that she would have to honor Danielle's memory and sent a text message from a prepaid phone to a number she knew so well.

'If I have the weekend off, we're on.'


	3. Tears for the Lost

Delilah left a quarter to seven, smiling at Sandy as the teen walked in. This was the routine she had gotten used to over the last few weeks.

The girl got a baby walkie talkie, turned it on and promptly passed out on the couch with a blanket. Her mousey brown hair going from a hasty brush down to a new set of tangles. The teen had obviously stayed up late with her friends, no doubt after the trip to the mall.

Rolling her eyes, Delilah fixed her black slacks. Today, she decided to wear a normal white button-up shirt. Its sleeves were rolled up to her upper arms, but worked nicely in the rising heat of the new day. Summer seemed to be giving its all in the terms of heat.

Sensible black pumps clicked slightly as she walked to her older model of Prius. She smiled thinking of her favorite joke her sister would mutter about the car. "It's not a black Prius." She would make black sound like a sterotypical goth or druggie. "It's not a red Prius." She said that color with a Hawaiian accent. "It's a blue Prius. Not any blue, but blue!" The last blue was always in some gay accent, which would crack up Delilah each time.

Sighing, Delilah crawled into the car and drove to her favorite part of her morning routine; a large blended Snickers coffee with a maple bismark donut. The cafe was busy, like every Friday. Thankfully the line wasn't terribly long since it just before seven. With a coffee and small bag in hand, Delilah drove to work.

Avery gave her a slight wave as Delilah entered, which made her hope that she might have the weekend off. Climbing the stairs and juggling the coffee and purse in one hand seemed a little less of a chore as Delilah thought of the prospect of a weekend of freedom.

The hallway to the Mr. Kinzer's office was thankfully void of people. Slipping into her own, Delilah set her coffee on a coaster. The donut bag was next to it. As the computer booted, Delilah locked up her purse and plugged in her phone. Sitting in the rolling computer chair, she put on her head set. Her planner was opened as she started to place and answer phone calls.

At one point, Sarah came in, or rather poked in her head. "Hello, Delilah." she greeted in her soft Chicago accent. Delilah smiled at her and nodded, pointing to her headset to signal she was on the phone. As Delilah turned back to her computer, typing away vigorously.

Delilah rolled her eyes as the client asked if she would be free later, probably mistaking her for Claire or Amelia, who never answered the phones. Smiling like a cat preparing for a lethal pounce, she politely declined and ended the call.

Sarah was patiently waiting in the folding chair that Delilah kept in the corner. Delilah put her headset around her neck. "Hello, I wasn't expecting a visit from you today." admitted Delilah.

Sarah shook her head, making her wavy chocolate locks to shudder with the movement. "I wasn't either, but Isabelle and Hannah were driving me up the wall." Delilah smiled knowingly. "I was wondering if you still have been collecting those photos."

Raising an eyebrow, Delilah nodded. "Of course I have. It will help greatly when you finally file for divorce." Delilah replied. She browsed her computer to the encrypted file that held two folders; Divorce and Insurance.

Fanning herself with her hand, Sarah smiled. "Thank you so much for your help, Delilah."

The secretary waved her hand dismissively. "I hate that asshole as much as you do, Sarah." she explained. "Plus, I doubt that you have much to worry about."

The ever ageless Sarah nodded. "I cannot trust him. He says we're going on a trip this weekend, but won't tell me about where or anything." Confused, Delilah looked at her, then through her planner.

"From what I have, you are taking a flight to New York, and attending a party Saturday night." read off the secretary, as Sarah frowned and her face grew serious.

"Delilah, swear to me that you will take the file with you and if anything happens." she gave stress on the word anything. "Give it to the person you trust." Blue eyes gazed into grey, but both women knew full well the bonfire they were playing with. Sarah's hands were tangled into a tight knot in her lap.

Concerned, Delilah looked at Sarah, her secret friend for the past two years. "Sarah, if you are that worried, don't go!" she hissed. Shaking her head, Sarah smiled faintly.

"I will be just fine, but I will worry for you."

* * *

Delilah shook off the worry for Sarah for the upcoming weekend, knowing full well that the last two years of evidence would be more than enough to defend herself from her husband. Throwing herself into her work, she hoped to get enough done to warrant the weekend free.

One phone call caught her attention, it was close to one in the afternoon, after Mr. Kinzer had asked not to be disturbed for an hour. Raising an eyebrow, Delilah ignored him for the next forty-five minutes. As she answered yet another phone call, her defenses were suddenly raised.

It began politely. "Hello, you have reached the office of Jeffery Kinzer, may I please have your company name and complaint?" stated Delilah with five years of practice.

The voice on the other end gave a shout to someone then returned to their end of the phone. "Yes. I must speak directly to Jeffery." urged the obvious male voice.

Delilah frowned, the little voice in the back of her mind screaming. "I apologize, but he is unavailable, since he is out to lunch." which was technically true, only food wasn't on the menu.

The unknown male gave a human version of a growl. "Well then get him on his cell."

Refusing to get punished for this impatient man's ignorance, Delilah tried again. "I can give him your name and number when he returns." After a moment's thought, she added, "He's in an important conference."

Shouting once again at someone else, the male was obviously upset by something. Delilah strained to hear what he screamed, only catching bits and pieces. "He's... hurry up!... They... here any moment..." When he returned to the phone, he sighed. "Tell Jeffery that he'd better show up this Saturday." He paused. "From Mr. Green."

Her eyebrow furrowed at the name, but Delilah wrote the message down. "Alright. He will get your message..." The man hung up. "When he gets back." she finished, now exasperated.

When the hour was up, Delilah got up and knocked on her boss's door. With a proper "Enter", she dared to open the door and thankfully, Mr. Kinzer was alone. "There a message. A man called while you told me not to disturb you." she stated with her usual icey edge. Placing the written note on the desk, she ignored the predatory eyes watching her every move.

"Thank you, Ms. Joelle." drawled the man, with an unusual pitch on her name.

Ignoring the urge to run, Delilah walked stiff-backed out of the room. Once she was out, she gave a slight intake of air. 'He's not creepy at all my ass.' she thought bitterly.

The rest of the day past without any form of excitement. As Delilah started to pack up her purse to go home, Mr. Kinzer poked his head into her office. Casting an emotionless look in his direction, she greeted him. "Yes, Mr. Kinzer?"

The normally laid-back male seemed troubled for once. "Did you get everything prepared for Saturday?" he asked, nervous for some reason.

Delilah raised an eyebrow. "Yes, the limo, hotel and dry cleaning are all arranged to the normal standards."

Mr. Kinzer breathed a sigh of visible relief. "Thank goodness." He smiled. "You may have the weekend off, see you on Monday, Ms. Joelle." As the door shut behind his form, Delilah could not help the massive grin that crossed her face. 'This weekend is going to be amazing.'

* * *

Delilah exhaled, releasing all the anger, worry and fatigue of the day. Her own home was pleasantly cool, as compared to the humid of the evening. As she walked indoors, she glanced to her right and saw Sandy curled up in a blanket with Nolan sleeping in her arms. Though what startled Delilah was the blank look at she stared at the television.

Setting keys and purse on the side table by the front door, Delilah walked toward Sandy, not being particularly quiet and looks at the television and chuckles. 'I will never understands the teenage obsession with children's movies.' she thought, exasperated.

Sitting on the couch, next to the completely zoned out teen, Delilah munched on some leftover homemade pizza that Sandy must have whipped up for herself. That slice of lovely Alfredo, chicken, garlic and cheese was more than enough inspiration, for her to kick off her pumps and take Nolan from Sandy and settle in to finish this movie, about two blue birds being bird-napped.

After the movie, Rio, had finished, Delilah glanced at Sandy, who was on the verge of falling asleep. Her next glance was toward the clock, which read 5:57. Smiling, Delilah turned off the tv. Sandy's eyes gained a little more alertness with the movements.

"Oh, hey Delilah." she yawned, still trying to speak. Stretching, she glanced at the clock as well, then started jumping up to collect her things. "Crap!" she exclaimed, gathering her blanket and whatever else belongs to her.

"What now?" asked Delilah, standing off to the side, curious.

"I have a date in three minutes!" Sandy cringes at her wrinkled sweats and t-shirt.

Remembering how giddy she'd be for a date at that age, Delilah shifted Nolan to her other arm. "Come to my room, I can make you pretty in ten minutes." she promised, making Sandy look at her like a God.

"Oh thank you!" the sixteen was up the stairs in no time flat. Chuckling at the teen's eagerness, Delilah followed much more slowly, perfecting the image in her mind's eye.

Nolan was placed carefully in the crib as Delilah quickly pulled out a nice wine gypsy top, a milk-chocolate brown skirt that would reach Sandy's knees and an old pair of embellished sandles. "Strip and get dressed." she ordered, tossing the articles to Sandy, who obeyed.

Across the room, Delilah pulled out some simple makeup; nice brown eyeshadow to make Sandy's blue eyes pop, pink lip-gloss, and brown eyeliner. Sandy came over and sat without being commanded on the bed as Delilah made short work of her face.

"What about my hair?" she asked, as Delilah rummaged on her vanity table and just grabbed some mousse and played with her hair for two seconds.

"You are done." announced the older woman, proud of her short, but effective art.

Sandy looked unconvinced and glanced behind her and gasped. "Oh my God."

Snorting, Delilah heard a car pull up next door. "Your date's here. Get your stuff on Monday." she instructed and made a shooing motion with her hands. "Now, go and enjoy it."

Not needing to be told twice, Sandy was up and out of the door with her usual brown satchel of things. Leaning against the wall, Delilah smiled at the memory of Danielle doing that same thing for her last minute dates. 'Now that was adrenaline rush.' thought Delilah as she picked up the phone, dialing a familiar number.

After a few rings, a young girl picked up. "Hello?" she asked, half paying attention.

"Hey, Ash. It's Delilah, pass me to your mother?" Her hands were shaking slightly as she metally prepared for the next few minutes.

Waiting with the comforting background of children ranging from five to fourteen, Delilah inhaled as her 'cousin', Shelly picked up the phone. "Is this really Delilah?" she inquired, suspicious of the caller.

A smile tugged at Delilah's lips, as she answered. "No, I just happen to know how your first child, Rylee, was conceived in your father's old truckbed." she replied.

A small gasp and then a chuckle greeted her from the other end. "I just might use that to embarrass her one of these days." warned the slightly older woman. "So what makes you call now of all times?"

"I need someone to watch Nolan." explained Delilah hesitantly, tearing up.

"Oh, hon." Shelly's voice was a great relief.

"He's fine, too young to notice, except that no one has been taking him to sleep in the basement." Delilah was trying her hardest not to break down in tears.

Shelly, bless her soul, could sense the impending dam to breaking. Knowing that Delilah hated appearing weak, she comforted her. "You need someone to watch him, so you can have some you time?" she asked, knowing Delilah would not allow herself to grieve with her child near.

"Please, you know you are the only one I trust with him overnight." Delilah felt a couple tears roll down her cheeks. "I finally have the weekend off."

"Say no more, honey." Shelly ignored the obvious tone that Delilah was crying. "Drop him off in this evening, if you can, or the morning works."

Delilah nodded. "I'll do it tonight, so that I don't spend all night being woken up. Do you need anything for me to bring?"

Shelly actually laughed. "Hon, I have plenty of leftover baby things to survive having several babies for the weekend." Delilah was cheered up at the thought that Shelly didn't seem to mind the out-of-the-blue favor. "Just drop the boy off so poor you can have some rest."

Delilah felt the dam start to burst. "Ok, I have to go." her voice was cracking, and Shelly immediately allowed her off the phone. Delilah curled up on the other side of the bed from Nolan and was sobbing into her knees. Eventually, she dried her cheeks and looked at the crib. "I wish you would be able to remember her, but then again memories wouldn't plague you." she informed the sleeping babe as she began to piece herself together.

* * *

As Delilah collapsed on her bed, she knew that her flights would begin in less than five hours, but she needed the sleep. She smiled at the photo by her bedside of her, Danielle, and Nolan from nearly three months ago.

"I love you with all my heart, sis, and I miss you dearly."


	4. Nightlife in Seattle

Delilah stared out the window to the clouds in the night sky. She had only slept a few hours, but she was far from drowsy. She was aware of every sleeping form that snorted or moved in their slumber, as well of those who were still awake, from reading, typing at a keyboard, and listening to music.

Grey eyes rolled at the business man sitting to her left was sweating bullets as he scrambled to finish what looked to be a conferrence report and speech about how his company was doing great despite some set backs.

She could also feel the teenager behind her, who had her feet against the back of her seat. The music blaring from the headphones that goth/emo wore, be probably make the girl deaf by the age of twenty. Delilah smirked at the thought, though she knew that it was highly unlikely.

Leaning back, Delilah remembered the last time that she rode in an airplane with Danielle. They were headed to Washington D.C., almost a year ago. Closing her eyes in memory, she ignored all the sounds around her.

* * *

Danielle was clinging to the seat, her face as white as a sheet as they hit some hard turbulence. Delilah was sitting in the window seat, since Danielle didn't "want to see how long it'd take us to hit the Earth again," trying not to smile at her twin's terrified expression.

Glancing down, she knew that it would take a good hour for her to regain full feeling in the hand that Danielle was turning white from lack of circulation. "Dan, I need that hand to be functional when we land." softly informed Delilah, making her sister look down in surprise and release her captive.

"Sorry." She blushed slightly as she tangled her fingers together in her lap.

Delilah giggled slightly. "It's fine."

Danielle raised an eyebrow, her face relaxing slightly. "Says the woman who is not afraid of dying in this iron death-trap."

Delilah bit her cheek, trying not to smile. "Oh, I'm afraid, but I know you well enough to know we're survive."

Danielle raised the eyebrow even higher.

Delilah's voice came out amused, though she tried not to. "Yes, the woman who the Grim Reaper refuses to come and collect." Danielle chuckled softly, knowingly.

* * *

'When will we be in Seattle?' she pleaded with the Airplane Fairy to be nice this time.

It was almost four in the morning, on this part of the country, which Delilah blamed the sun for. She would have to sleep most of the day away before she had anything to do. Not that she didn't want to visit the tourist attractions, but... that would not the purpose of this weekend. She was going to pay proper respects to to her sister if it killed her.

Delilah dozed off slightly, before the pilot's intercom startled her. "We're be landing in Seattle in twenty minutes, please fasten your seatbelts." he informed the passengers, who groaned and obeyed.

"Finally." Delilah fastened her own seatbelt, ignoring the older business man on her left and the teenager behind her. The plane hit turbulence, but Delilah ignored it with a smile at almost being there.

As other passengers scrambled for their carry-on and out the door in semi-organized chaos, Delilah waited until the plane was almost empty before getting her bag from the overhead compartment and slipping the messenger bag over her shoulder. The flight attendants smiled at her and wished her a safe trip before leaving themselves.

Thankfully, the airport was not full of herds of people heading from area to area, Delilah retrieved her large luggage bag and wheeled it to the rental car place next door.

* * *

When she parked at the Best Western, Delilah was exhausted, not in a good way. She was cranky and just wanted to curl up in a bed and sleep until dusk. As she pulled out her carry-on bag and luggage, she breathed in the familiar and yet unique scent of Seattle. It smelt like salt of the sea mixed with the more normal of the city-living. The carry-on bag was carefully placed on the top of the luggage and wheeled toward the front desk to be checked in.

It was bare for the most part. The bar and restaurant were long closed. The only soul was behind the front desk, probably heard her work through the two doors to even get to the lobby. He was dressed in the typical green dress shirt and black slacks. He smiled slightly. "May I help you?" he asked, slightly tired from the tone.

'Poor guy, probably works the all night shift.' thought Delilah as she pulled out her driver's license on the table. "I have a room."

He nodded and took it, looking through the database for her reservation. Eventually, he frowned. "I cannot find one under your name." he looked apologetic and he gave her ID back.

Delilah's eyes narrowed. "I have one at this hotel." she insisted, not wanting to have to in her car and go somewhere else or be charged twice.

The young man cocked his head to the side. "Sorry lady, but we don't have you in the database. Would you like to get a room anyway?" he asked, before trying not to yawn.

Putting a hand to her forehead, Delilah tried to think and then smiled. "I have a receipt." she stated and pulled out a smart phone, opening her email and showing him it. "If you lost my reservation, that's your problem, but I paid for a room." her voice was now very icy as she tried not to scream at the equally exhausted youth.

His eyes squinted as he read the receipt. "Oh, I'm sorry. They must have labeled your name backwards, they do that on the website." he stuttered, as he looked up to Delilah's unbridled glare. "I'll get the key right now, Ms. Joelle." He quickly pulled up her reservation and tried not to shudder as her glare made him feel like he was in a blizzard.

When the card key and the room number were finally given, Delilah released her icy stare. "Thank you." she was overly sweet in her words, which startled the young man. As she turned tail and walked toward her room, he shook his head trying to dispel the feeling of being covered in snow.

Trudging to the elevator, Delilah followed the helpful signs toward her room. By the time she finally reached the damn door, her limbs felt like lead covered her bones.

Opening the door with practiced ease, Delilah turned on the light to illuminate the space. A window directly in front of her to the city view, but with blackout curtains. The queen-sized bed was covered in a hideous beige, blue and green tie-die design bedding. Rolling her eyes, Delilah managed to kick off her tennis shoes, before rummaging in her luggage for a nightgown. Smiling, she closed the curtains and disappeared into the bathroom.

The bathroom was interesting though. It was to the immediate left of the door that allowed a sink inlaid in a cabinet with a mirror overhead with a closet to the opposite side. Then there was a mirrored door leading to the bathtub/shower and toilet, with plenty of room to change for three people. Closing the door, she stripped and showered.

The pleasant warmth of the shower relaxed her muscles, lulling her toward the bliss of sleep. Drying off, Delilah changed into her ankle-length nightgown. Collapsing into the bed, she grinned at the knowledge of tonight.

* * *

A female smiled as she entered the club. Everyone was in various states of dress, from bikinis to full body coverings. She winked at a few men, saw her and caught her eye. They smiled and continued dancing in the mash of bodies.

"So this is the underground club, 'Haven'." the young woman stated, very pleased.

The entire building was legit, so police would never be a problem. It just wasn't advertised, because it was a purely pro-mutant night stop. Placed in a huge warehouse, the club offered drinks and lounges open to view, so that no illegal activity could take place. The only place that was not open to the public was the dressing rooms and such for visiting performers and the staff. Safety reasons.

The woman wove through the huge crowd toward the back. She refused to even walk through the backdoor. She smirked as people would pause in their dance when they noticed her, then smiled at her. With a smile plastered on her face, she approached the bouncer guarding the dressing rooms.

His arms were crossed over his massive chest, his cat-like eyes watching her. The young woman winked. "Dancing is a way of life." she stated, before the man would move and allow her entrance.

As compared to the huge crowd of moving bodies, multicolored lights and blaring music, the hallway she entered was fairly void of people, evenly lit and significantly muted the music beyond. Exhaling a breath, she straighten and walked down the hall to a door that was labeled "DJ Tekna".

Opening the door to the already illuminated room, she smiled at the mirror's reflection. She was savoring the moment before Mr. Deju found her. She studied the reflection.

Looking back at her was a young woman, not more than twenty-two or twenty-three. She had light caramel skin, borderline bronze. Wild curls brushed her shoulders, the color of raven's feathers with the shock of neon colored streaks. She had artificially straight purple bangs that she often brushed to the side. Amber contacts stared back at her from the eyeholes of the glitter black mask.

She moved her faces from the face to the rest of her. A bare neck down to the forest green top. Oh, how she loved that top. She wore it rarely, but it was beautiful. It covered one shoulder, but ended three inches above her belly button. The top hem had belt-like loops with a fake attached belt with a large rectangular belt buckle, but below was a cleavage-showing diamond of flesh. Her abs were strokes by gold chains that were sewn on the bottom hem of the shirt, that overlapped and twinkled with movement.

A gold armband on her upper right arm looped around and made her flesh seems more like bronze than it really was. Below a gold and black belly ring, was blue denim booty-shorts. It was barely three inches above pink cotton stockings, with matching arm-warmers. The outfit was complete with a pair of mid-calf leather boots, in a lovely shade of chocolate. The boots had a comfortable three inch heel, in a wedge style.

As DJ Tekna studied her appearance, she was not surprised as a balding older man opened the door and smiled at her. Pink lips smiled back in the reflection and he closed the door.

"There is my lovely performer!" he greeted her with a hug and kiss on the cheek. "Oh, how I've missed you."

DJ Tekna chuckled, returning a kiss to his cheek. "I could see you three days from now and you'd say the same thing."

The older man laughed. "True enough." He gestured to the door. "Do you want to meet your dancers for the night?" he asked, referring to the audience.

Smiling, the young woman allowed herself to be led to stage entrance, the normal house DJ smiled at her as he finished his last song for the night. "Hello everyone." he sang into the microphone. "We have a special surprise for you all tonight!"

The crowd cheered eagerly.

"We have a guest DJ that many of you might have heard of..." he trailed off for effect. "DJ Tekna!"

Going absolutely nuts, the crowd cheered and yelled. DJ Tekna smiled, the house DJ bowing away with a smile. "Hello Seattle!" she greeted the crowd. "Let's get this party started!"

A huge projection screen started up behind her as the new mix of silhouettes. It was her dance routines both old and new. There was added finishes with today's CG effects that upped the ante.

* * *

When the crowd was informed by the owner that the club was closed, many started piling out the door. Staff swarmed around picking up discarded cups and other items, some of which made DJ wonder if the owner was going to miss it.

As she turned to go to the dressing rooms, she had a sudden thought. Why not just go to the hotel?

Shrugging, she remembered how badly her manager would freak if he wasn't informed. What he didn't know, might kill him via heart attack. Groaning, DJ Tekna hauled herself toward the door, but saw her manager in the corner of her eye talking to the owner.

Smiling at the prospect of leaving out the back without any trouble, she headed toward her designated room. Grabbing her purse, she held the doorknob turn and quickly hid under the line of those chairs that waiting rooms use, sliding her slender body beneath.

The expensive Italian shoes that entered were most definitely her manager's, who proceeded to pace for a while, muttering things like "Where is she?" and "I hope she's all right."

Trying not to laugh or move, DJ grinned from ear to ear, listening to the poor old man. Her joke didn't seem to worry him too badly, since he was constantly talking to himself. "She'll be alright. She has a black belt." he paused. "Then again, she did end up in the hospital with a broken wrist that one time."

Eventually, Mr. Deju left, allowing DJ to leave her hiding spot. Knowing if she left a note in the open, he might not see it, she wrote a quick note on a piece of paper from her purse.

When she opened the door, the hallway was empty. Cautiously, DJ left her dressing room and stalked down the hall. When she past the door to the back, she could hear some voices, mainly the bouncer and Mr. Deju.

Giggling softly at his obvious waiting point, thinking she must have parked there, DJ walked through the door to the now vacant club dance floor. DJ Tekna smirked as she past a note the bouncer, asking him to give it to her manager. Skipping away from the club, she was walking on air, so to speak. She felt so light and happy. It had been much too long, but tonight was worth the wait.

Unlocking her rental via remote, she checked the alarm, it hadn't been disengaged or set off since she had left it. As she slipped into her rental, she smirked at the rear-view mirror. Tonight, one of the few, would allow her to relax. She didn't notice a shadow in the backseat shift as she drove toward her hotel.

* * *

That same night, in a very different location, a slender body slid through a skylight and into a very locked, very guarded building. Her black-clad body spared no heart as she slunk into the shadows.

The janitor, with headphone in, didn't notice a strange form pick a lock and enter an office behind him. The form slid into the rolling chair of one of the cubicles and plugged in a flash-drive.

The computer whirred to life, but the monitor's light was dimmed to a minimum. Gloved fingers eagerly danced away on the keyboard, bringing forth information that made the figure smirk as the hacking program did its job.

"Thank you, Nathan." she breathed as many folders were now open to her access. The Reaper was looking for some soulless people to destroy.


	5. Secrets and Sorcery

Danielle cast a quick look around, noting the door she entered through was the only way out of the cubicle filled area, other than the three story high windows. Her painted eyes narrowed, knowing that her time was short. Her fingers flew over the keyboard, searching for anything related to Galen "Grim" Thompson. However, the file easily opened.

Pausing, with the cursor hovering over the file, Danielle thought more about it. 'Why encrypt so many folders, but leave the one on Grim open?' she questioned herself. 'Because he isn't that important.' Opening the Word document, she skimmed it quickly, but it was nothing she was interested in or didn't already knew, confirming her suspicions.

With renewed purpose, the Reaper looked for the still encrypted folders. They were copy-pasted onto her drive, hopefully being much more interesting. Crimson-painted lips curled into a soft smile. As she waited for the rest of the files to be pasted, she heard the door open across the room. Instantly, she was crouched on the floor.

'Lovely. Visitors.' she thought, as she glanced at the screen.

The little menu still read that it was only 70% done, with five minutes remaining. Danielle smiled though as she unplugged the monitor, plunging the room into dark once more.

As silently as humanly possible, the black-clad woman disappeared into the cubicle across from her previous position to see what came into the room. Calming her racing heart, she slowed her breaths to far and few in between as she waited.

She was expecting guards, in the typical black cargo pants, bulky vests and armed to the teeth... not this. He, most defiantly a male, was bald for one, not shaved, but most likely laser-removed (ouch) or waxed (more ouch). The strange guy was also in the typical "Men in Black" suit, but that was the most normal thing about him. There were goggles that faintly glowed in an almost opal shade, very eerie, but he was constantly looking, which made Danielle hide so she knew he couldn't see her.

The lower part of his face, under the goggles was completely covered by some dark material that extended into the suit. On his hand were gloves, but they had decals on the palms and inner parts of the fingers that glowed a faint blue. In one hand was some kind of rifle as well, one that Danielle could not identify.

Deciding that the best would be to lure him away, then take the drive and disappear into the night. Danielle nearly gasped when she saw two more of the men, whose heads she saw as she stood up. 'Damn. Three against one.'

Calculating the odds, Danielle glanced at the one who was investigating the desk she had been using. 'I'll wait until he moves on and get the drive.' she thought, as she fought to not shake from the fear of being caught. 'No.' she firmly gasp her iron resolve as Reaper. 'The Reaper NEVER shakes in the light of fear.'

Casting another glance at the cubicle, Danielle saw that the man had moved on, probably thinking that she had finished what she was doing and trying to escape. A quick head bouncing above the cubicle walls, she almost frowned as one seemed to be guarding the door and one was systematically checking the desk enclosures.

'Here goes nothing.'

The young woman checked her watch and smiled, two minutes to go. The man that was in her cubicle was now checking the desks with the other. Deciding that silence would be her best element, she constructed a sphere of silence around her as she walked toward the guard near the opposite side of the door and first man.

At first, Danielle sat herself at a cubicle that he would be checking soon and focused her mind and body. There was something strange about his gloves and gun. Deciding that if she could disable him for a few minutes, she'd have a better chance, the Reaper smiled. When he turned to check the opposite cubicle, she struck from behind.

"Damn." When her foot connected with his knee, there was virtually no effect on him... like he was wearing a metal suit of armor like knights of old. Cringing at the slight throb of her steel-capped toes, she watched as he slowly turned and cocked his head to the side as if asking her if that was really necessary.

Without warning, the male reached for woman. Not wanting to find out what those gloves could do, she dodged to the side, one hand touching the floor as she balanced herself, and watched as the gloves caused sparks when they touched the cubicle wall that had been behind her.

'Electricity?!' thought the woman, alarmed. It explained why something seemed odd, but she couldn't pinpoint the cause with all the computers, but now she could narrow the glove's ability, which seemed to operate on two functions.

Eyes narrowed and turned a slightly different shade of gray-amber ratio, as the male sized her up. 'Now, the differences between the computers and what he has.' encouraged the woman to herself as the male lunged forward.

Avoiding the outstretched palm, Danielle grabbed his wrist, pulling him faster than he intended. "Aiki." the woman chanted, as she let go of his wrist.

As he slammed against the wall, she moved toward the more open area, but paused looking at him. "Kiai." she told him.

A quick glance revealed that the other two had noticed the fight and were headed toward her. "Well, the party is getting started." she smiled slightly, as she crouched.

The two tried to corner Reaper in the ten by eight space that surrounded the water tank, but since Danielle now had a lock on their gloves, she was not too concerned. They kept their rifles on their backs, apparently they wanted her alive, probably to question her. Straightening, Danielle leaned against the wall, seeming relaxed as she put one foot flat against the wall.

"Come and get it." her voice was cocky, though in reality, she dared not be.

Soundlessly, one of them lunged toward her from the left. When he was close, Danielle pushed herself off the wall, using her leg. The momentum pushed her forward toward the him, but she leaned forward to avoid the hand. The male hit the wall hard, since he tried to correct himself and at least graze her.

Unaffected, Danielle changed her direction to address the second one who was lunging at her as if she would be imbalanced. She stood still until she grabbed his wrist. Faster than the man could predict her movements, she turned pulling him in his original intended trajection. "Aiki." she announced, knowing he might not understand.

Releasing him, he had been imbalanced and slammed into his partner. "Kiai." she stated, proud. They tangled up, trying to get up, but Danielle forced their electrical gloves on. The two bodies convulsed on the ground with their gloves touching each other. Neither were able to turn it off, before both passed out from the taser-like effect.

Turning the gloves off, Danielle turned only to see the third one studying her. His head was cocked to the side. Cautiously, he stalked her. Gracefully like a feline on the prowl, he was seeming to think he knew her style.

Goggle reflected her face, Danielle mimicked him in leaning her head to one side. He pulled out his gun, but Danielle's eyes narrowed. As he raised it to shoot it, she smiled as he pulled the trigger.

It clicked, not firing. Looking up at the girl, the man tried again, getting the same result. When he dared to glance down at his weapon, Danielle seized her chance. Snapping her fingers, the male was thrown backwards into the cubicle wall behind him. Before he could regain his feet or raise his useless gun, the gun was kicked out of his hands.

His covered face raised to look up at Danielle, who smiled. "Nice goggles." she said.

As she ran off toward the cubicle she started with, the male was clawing at the goggles over his eyes as a blinding whiteness assaulted his retinas. The drive was pulled out and stuffed into a pocket and Danielle paused at the door to wave at the men. "Goodbye, Gentle Men."

Expecting no answer, the young woman slipped out the door. The floor was dry, the janitor long gone. No one had heard a thing from the silence that was donned as Danielle ran down the halls and out an unsupervised service entrance. Disappearing into the very early morning, she got into her car and smiled.

"Time to head home."

* * *

Delilah plastered on a smile as she trudged up the stairs of a older home. It was no-so-conveniently located in Chicago-land. Still close enough to be called Chicago, but not really in the city limits. The neighborhood was nice enough, but it was very spaced from the huge yards and few businesses.

The door was a simple wood one with windows on either side to look at visitors. Knocking firmly on the door, she retreated a few steps before a girl, no older than ten opened the door.

Delilah smiled. "Hey Ash."

The four foot nothing child flung itself the rest of the three feet against Delilah, almost making her fall down the few stairs to the door. Laughing, she patted the child's head. "I've only been gone two days." she gasped.

"Still missed you. You never visit anymore." came from the muffled mouth near her breasts.

Rolling her eyes, Delilah pried the child off. Another child appeared in the doorway, wearing a hipster get-up, he was glaring at the shorter one. "Ash, Shell says you shouldn't be attacking the guests." he scolded the girl with more seriousness than a teen should possess.

Ash scowled. "She doesn't mind, do you Delilah?" Her green eyes pleaded with the gray ones and Delilah caved.

"It's ok. It's not like I have a bun in the oven." she claimed, shrugging.

Huffing the teen disappeared inside, Ash dragged Delilah inside with a captive hand. "Nolan is soooooo adorable." she gushed, showing her much love for the infant. "I wish you'd bring him over more often." she pleaded.

Delilah smiled. "You say that now, but you've only had him for two days. When he gets in one of his moods, nothing can make him calm down and be a nice baby."

The green orbs turned into saucers. "He's possessed?" the girl whispered, making Delilah chuckle.

A young woman, who looked much older from the aged look in her eyes, walked around the corner. "Totally." she sarcastically agreed, before shooing Ash away. "How are you?" her question directed at the woman that she knew for so long.

Delilah smiled at the modern gypsy. "Much better. Thank you."

Shelly smirked. "Anytime." Leaning against the wall, her eyes went from Delilah's feet to her hair. "It's a wonder you haven't found a man yet, beautiful."

Delilah chuckled. "Remember how I looked Friday night?" she reminded the woman, who shuddered at the memory. "That's why."

The deeply tanned woman flipped some unruly brown hair over her shoulder as the signature emerald green eyes of the Mitlow clan settled on her. "You need to heal." she stated, very mysteriously. "You have so much pain and grieving left to give for her."

The meaning and weight of those words settled like a feather-soft embrace that Delilah welcomed. "I will." she promised, giving Shelly a well-deserved hug. Kissing each cheek, Shelly released her after a moment.

Eyes twinkled with playfulness. "Nolan was fed about an hour ago and passed out almost right afterwords." she paused. "As much as I'd love to talk to you for hours like we used to, you should take him home and relax." Delilah nodded and smiled at her long-term friend.

"Alright, but next time we get a chance, we will talk for hours." she placed a long emphasis on long.

Laughing, Shelly patted her back as she led her 'cousin' up to her room. "I wouldn't miss it for the world hon." she swore, knowing that in reality, it may be a long time before she'd get to be able to talk to the real Delilah.


	6. Investigation

Delilah poured a bowl of Apple Jacks into a purple bowl as raised an eyebrow as Sandy walked through the door, lucid at this early hour. She sat at the island bar and looked at Delilah's meager meal.

Gray met blue and Sandy chuckled. "The last time I saw you eat cereal, you decided to pull a prank on Amelia. So what's the plot today?" eagerly questioned the teen.

Delilah poured the milk and set it back in the refrigerator. "Nothing. I just had a good weekend. Plus I don't feel like having a donut and coffee today. Call it a woman's intuition." she explained in between bites of the sugary delight.

Sandy giggled. "Well, I had coffee for once." she informed the older woman, who almost choked on her bite of cereal.

Clearing away the choking hazard, the woman looked at the teen. "One, you are too young for that much caffeine in the morning and two, my house better not burn down while I'm at work." she warned, her voice firm.

Hands up in surrender, the brown-haired girl laughed. "Oh, I just wanted to watch all the Alien movies before you got back." Frowning, the mother wondered if that much television would further rot the girl's brain and finished her cereal as she thought of the concept. Pulling out two hundred, she passed it to the girl. "For this week."

Blue orbs bugged out as the teen counted it. "Oh thank you!" she shrieked and managed to lanch herself from the island bar stool. Her body ended up stretching the entire island to hug the surprised woman.

Trying to pry off the girl, Delilah giggled. "Ok, ok. Now get off before you wrinkle my shirt." she softly ordered the teen who propped herself up on her elbows to look up at the woman. "How did your date go?" she asked, as she rinsed out her bowl. Earning a groan, she could safely assume that like all teenage boys, he messed up somehow.

"Oh, perfectly." stated the teen, her words dripping with sarcasm. "Two of his exes showed up and started harassing us, in the middle of dinner. He ended up leaving me with the bill, which I had to call my mother to get some of my money so I could cover it."

Delilah cringed. "Too bad." she comforted. "He saw what he'd be missing out on, I bet some better guy will find his way to you." Sandy rolled her eyes. "But men age better. Wait a couple years, the teenage drone that most boys possess goes away."

Glancing at the clock, Delilah groaned. "I have to go chickadee." Sandy halfheartedly waved goodbye from the island countertop as the secretary rushed out the door to her car. She took her time getting to work, since she had plenty of time and she couldn't ever be late, even when she tried.

Driving through the typical Chicago morning traffic, Delilah frowned when she got to the office. There was a ton of cars outside, someone even parked in her employee parking spot. Rolling her eyes and muttering something cruel under her breath, the mother parked in one of the few open spots and headed to the office.

When she pushed through the revolving door, Delilah's eyes narrowed as she saw many unfamiliar faces wandering the lobby. Avery wasn't behind her desk, but rather another woman, who didn't bother to glance up from the computer, was typing furiously on the keyboard.

'Strange.' concluded Delilah. Casting a full look around the lobby, the word that described the situation not longer seemed aduacate. There was a even mix of genders in the unusual clumps of people. They were in all sorts of professional formal dress, which varied in condition and style. They were all glancing around the room as they talked as if they were discussing some secret.

Delilah's own outfit, of a navy skirt and blazer with a white blouse, blended in perfectly. Clutching her purse, she avoided the largest crowd by the elevator and silently slipped into the more concealed stair case.

The vacant area that echoed with each step, was her temporary haven. Her pumps clicked in the twisting tower, but she was not worried because unless someone was in the staircase, they could not hear her.

Halfway to the second-floor, Delilah paused. Perhaps, she should check on Sarah. If the weekend went wrong, she might need the flash drive in Delilah's purse. As she peered into the small window of the second-floor door, she could see that the hallway was swarming with more of the professionals, which seemed to now be investigating something since there were a few police officers mixed inside.

"This cannot be good." Delilah breathed. A clump of cereal seemed to be causing some stomach pain as she gazed through the glass. Suddenly the people shifted and she glimpsed Isabella and Hannah, clinging to each other bawling their eyes out. "Definatily not good." Delilah corrected herself.

Out of nowhere, several voices floated up, echoed by the staircase. Delilah slipped off her shoes and silently padded up further up the tower, listening. It wasn't in the staircase, but rather by the second-floor door.

One voice was deep and masculine. "I do not believe that you should go to the extreme of using a telepath to conduct an interrogation." protested the male.

The other man, his voice less deep and more like an authority figure, sighed. "I know of your concerns Hank, but we need to know what they know." he explained. "Kelsey is perfectly aware that she is to look for information strictly about the case and nothing else." promised the other male.

The first sounded unconvinced. "Detective Tancy, these women have never had a telepath in their heads, who knows what mental barriers they have created to protect themselves from traumatic events?" reasoned the diplomat. "They could be worse off than in the regular question and answer session."

"Then they can just lie and hide valuable information." hissed the police officer. Delilah could see them now and tried not to gasp as the normal-looking man, who looked like an agent for one of the alphabet agencies, continued. "This will save money and taxpayer money."

The other male wore a expensive suit, in a flattering matte black and white shirt. Delilah's eyes bugged looking at him. He was BLUE. Not a light baby blue, but a straight-up cobalt blue. Calming down, Delilah studied the mutant from her higher perch. He was tall for one, most likely close to 6'5 or maybe 6'7.

The suit concealed pretty much everything else, but Delilah could see some blue hair peeking from his sleeves. She smiled softly, as he turned to address the other male. He didn't have a mustache, but had a beard that blended perfectly with his hair. His nose was on the large and wide side, but that combined with his other broad features, he was fairly good-looking, even if he appeared to be in his forties.

Noticing her train of thought, Delilah paused it and listened to the rest of the conversation. The authority figure was still trying to convince the mutant that a telepathic interrogation was safe and easier. "You can even prep them for it if you want." he offered, a feeble attempt to bribe the blue male.

Sighing, the blue male opened the door to the staircase. "I will prep them, but you will not conduct the interrogation without my approval." he firmly informed the detective. With a broad, pleased smirk, the detective left and the door was closed behind him. Delilah froze.

The mutant male looked directly at the hiding woman's hiding place. "Ms. Joelle, I presume?" he asked, walking slowly up the stairs. Delilah blushed and put her shoes back on and stood, fidgeting.

"Yes." confirmed the woman, as she studied her feet. She saw a pair of expensive dress shoes, four steps down from her.

The man tried not to fidget himself as he looked over the last secretary to arrive that day. She was not as icy, but if he believed the notes that Mr. Kinzer left, she was a ice queen. However, the almost pale woman was fascinating. She had taken off her heels in order to avoid detection, though his sensitive hearing could still catch the almost silent breaths she took.

Very dark brown hair with a lighter brown hues and highlights was wrapped into a complicated bun on her head, exposing her neck, ears and face more fully for inspection. He blushed, though his complexion would hide it, when he caught himself staring. Clearing his throat nervously, he startled the woman.

"I... um." Delilah tried to think of a valid excuse to be eavesdropping in the staircase, but the man stopped her.

"I apologize, my name is Hank McCoy." introduced the mutant, holding out a hand for the woman to shake. "I guessed your identity from the fact that you are the last one to arrive this morning."

Delilah nodded and fidgeted, trying not to look up. She gently shook the offered hand and Hank smiled. "Now, do you have any idea what had transpired this past weekend?" he inquired, trying not to sound like he was putting her down. His voice, though faint, sounded like it had pity in it.

Delilah actually looked up at the blue male, her gray eyes blazing with emotion. Hank inhaled sharply in shock at the fire in those depths. "Tell me why the hell my workplace is crawling with agents from one of the ABC agencies." she demanded, her voice not more than a speaking tone, but carried a threat inside.

Startled at the passionate tone, Hank tried not to squirm under the shorter woman's gaze. He fidgeted, not used to feeling like this, even when his mother would demand answers, he never even felt close to this. "Um..." he tried to think, but the gaze was unnerving him. "Let's discuss this in your office?" he offered, weakly.

Delilah crossed her arms under her breasts, making them larger. She was nearly face to face with the taller male from her vantage. "How do I know I can trust my office to be a safe place to discuss anything?" she pointed out.

Hank paused in thought. "Perhaps it is best that you assume that trust is something that you must depend on in this case." Delilah's right eyebrow raised higher than her left at the comment and he stumbled. "I mean..." he trailed off trying to repair the damage he had caused.

A halt motion made Hank pause as he was captured into the icy facade in the storm of those eyes. "Just tell me." Her voice was soft and pleading. "I don't need anyone beating around the bush."

Hank sighed. "Alright, you may want to return to sitting." The young woman smoothed the back of her skirt and sat down on one of the stairs. Hank's shoulders drooped as he followed sitting a few stairs down and to the side of her. They were alone in the staircase, which was nice because his words would echo.

Delilah put her hands in her lap and waited for an explanation. Hank started softly. "You worked purely for Mr. Kinzer correct?" he started, but Delilah rolled her eyes.

"On paper, yes. However, Sarah would often ask me for help as well." corrected Delilah.

Hank was confused for a moment. "You were friends with Mrs. Kinzer?" His statement came out more like a question, but Delilah nodded all the same.

"I've been working at this firm for three years, but Sarah," she paused trying to put it in words. "Pitied me. I worked for her unfaithful husband and worked insane hours." she continued, despite the fact that she didn't know the man beside her very well. "Mr. Kinzer paid me well I suppose, but Sarah wanted me to do more." She looked up at the tower of stairs. "She wanted me to collect evidence."

Hank's heart almost stopped. "Evidence of what?" he inquired.

"Her husband's lies." spat Delilah, her rage of that rat bastard returning. "How he had three secretaries, but only one was working the phone and was at work from eight am to god knows how late." Sighing, she relaxed. "Amelia and Claire was his during-work whores." Hank raised an eyebrow and Delilah shuddered. "She also had me get photos of all the clients that came into the office and record every phone number and address that I was given, as insurance."

Gray eyes looked at the blue male, as he processed the information. "I hate to be the one to tell you, but," he trailed off and inhaled deeply. "Mrs. Kinzer was murdered this past weekend. We believed her husband did it, so we issued a search warrant."

When Hank looked at the stunned woman, she collapsed into tears. She leaned forward, hands on her face as she sobbed. The male sat there awkwardly, until he started to rub her back on a whim. He would allow her, her grief. She had lost a friend. Hank knew full well how badly that would harm the heart.

"Just let it all out." he comforted her. "Just mourn."

* * *

Hank sighed. After the chat with Delilah, he asked her to share the information and the flash-drive with the data with the lead investigator, Detective Tancy. The UN ambassador himself was swisked off to prep the other women for the telepathic interrogation. He noted that Avery seemed to be taking the intrusion well. Amelia and Claire clung to each other, whispering all the time. He noted that they were terrified of being dubbed as prostitutes and arrested.

On the other hand, the personal secretaries for Mrs. Kinzer clung to each other in their grief. The older woman had known Mrs. Kinzer for much longer, but Hank knew that a life could be a beacon of hope in the lives she touched.

It was nearing three pm when he and Delilah saw each other again, but Hank had been forced to skip lunch and it being almost dinnertime was making him slightly cranky. He had just passed Amelia, who had annoyed him by acting like he was an animal that might attack her at any given moment.

Detective Tancy cornered him as Hank tried to slip into the staircase. "How is the preparations going?" the male was too chipper, perhaps he had enough evidence to convict Mr. Kinzer.

Hank tried not to sound as cranky as he was. "I've been spending all day talking to females, who are hysterical from the intrusive investigation." Hank mentally kicked himself for giving the answer.

Tancy paled. "That bad huh?"

Hank raised a very hairy eyebrow. "I haven't been able to pause long enough to eat, let alone think properly."

The older male broke into a smile at that moment. "Well, the last secretary, Ms. Joelle, has been asking when she can leave for the past two hours." Hank gave the investigator a very hard look for imprisoning the poor woman. Tancy shrunk slightly. "I was thinking that you two could talk over dinner." he finished weakly.

Putting a large hand to his temple, as if it would calm the raging headache beneath, Hank nodded. "Alright, where is she?"

Tancy grinned wolfishly. "In the lobby, waiting for her escort." He nudged Hank into the stairwell. "Go talk, eat and prepare." encouraged the detective eagerly. As the door closed on the detective's face and Hank disappeared into the lobby, his grin faded. "I need that telepathic interrogation of that woman." he hissed softly.

Oblivious to the detective's ulterior motive of the dinner, Hank walked into the lobby and at first, he didn't see Delilah. His blue eyes did a 360 of the room. There was plenty of agents, but the one person who belonged didn't seem to be in sight. Placing a head to pacify the raging migraine under his fingertips, his ocean eyes saw Delilah leaving the restroom.

The shorter woman saw him and actually grinned. "Please tell me you are my knight in blue fur." she joked, her stiffness relaxing ever so softly.

The headache seemed to fade from Hank's mind. "I do seem to be. Would you like to have dinner with me?" chuckled the mutant.

Delilah placed a hand to her heart and pretended to swoon. "If it gets me out of that damn old man's hands, I'll go with you to the moon."

Hank politely offered his arm. "Shall we go, Ms. Joelle?"

The beauty smiled and took the offered appendage. "To the moon it is, Mr. McCoy." Delilah laughed.

Hank shook his head, a smile making the edges of his lips twitch. "I apologize Ms, but that privilege is for more intimate circumstances." Delilah's giggle was a pleasant change from the more hostile females she worked with. "I believe there is a rather nice restaurant I frequent when I am in the Chicago that would be a fairly quiet place to dine."

The brunette chuckled. "I don't know a single place that is quiet when there is people in it." Hank laughed, making a several people on the sidewalk look at him oddly. For once, Hank was without fear of what others thought, seeing him on the street, so visibly a mutant, with a lovely young woman on his arm. They turned suddenly and Delilah tried not to burst into giggle.

Hank bowed and opened the door for Ms. Joelle. "This is one of the few Chinese places I prefer." he explained, blushing slightly. When he entered, the waitress didn't even bother to look at him as she whisked up Delilah and led them to a back room.

The older Asian women chatted with Delilah. "Oh, dear." she exclaimed. "You have had a terrible day, come child. You need Al's special treatment." She gentally grasped Delilah's arm and led her further into the building.

Hank was very confused, but hid it well as he followed the two women to a back room, which he had no idea existed. It was in the same decor as the main dining room, but was an enclosed room, like those for private get-togethers. Impressed, Hank nearly missed the older woman asking what he would like to drink. "Um, hot tea." he replied absentmindedly.

Almost as quickly as she had led them there, the older woman left. Delilah was seated and staring at Hank. "Are you going to sit?" she inquired softly, snapping the man out of his revieve.

"Oh, yes." he stumbled and sat across the table from Delilah. "I had no idea that they were so familiar with you."

The young woman laughed. "Mr. Kinzer would send me down here to fetch his lunch, instead of having it delivered." Taking a sip of water, she continued. "I think he hated me." she shrugged.

Blue eyes widened. "How could he?" asked Hank. "You are a wonderful secretary and a beauty." His compliment of her appearance caused her to gulp down another sip of water and for both of them to blush.

"I think it was because I wouldn't sleep with him." muttered Delilah, before smiling. "So, how do you prepare for a telepathic interrogation?" she asked, changing the subject.

Hank was interrupted as the waitress poked her head in, then dropped off two mugs, a sugar bowl and two kettles of hot tea. "I will bring in your favorites in a bit." she promised, giving Delilah's shoulder a light squeeze and left again.

Delilah blushed and busied herself pouring a very liberal amount of sugar in the mug and then tea. Hank mimicked her. "In all the times I've been here, I've always been given very small teacups for the hot tea."

Delilah laughed. "Oh, Al and May have known me for about three years now. They have my habits down pretty well." Smiling fondly at the memory, she sipped from the mug. "When I have a bad enough day, they sense it. I always ended up drowning my sorrows in hot tea." she joked.

Sipping from his steaming mug, Hank nodded. "Back to your earlier question," he began. "I can only warn those of what might occur during a telepathic interrogation." Delilah nodded for Hank to continue. "For example, they may accidentality 'unlock' memories that you buried to protect yourself."

Delilah scoffed. "I've had a year of bad luck, I think it can't bring up anything worse."

Hank almost choked on his tea. "A year of bad luck?" he inquired.

The young woman sobered. "Yes, so I doubt the telepath can bring up anything that hasn't already been bothering me for a while now." She fixed her gray eyes in the contents of her mug. "My sister was murdered. I got pregnant with a stranger's child. The process of which caused me to be in the hospital for three weeks." she whispered, half hoping Hank wouldn't hear.

Pity blossomed in Hank's chest as he gazed at the woman in front of him. She had been through so much and now she would most likely lose her job as well. He tried to find the proper words to console her. Raising his mug, he winked at the woman. "Here's to an end of this year of bad luck." he announced.

Delilah laughed and raised her glass as well. "Here, here." she agreed and in sync took a long drink of the tea.

* * *

Hank paced outside the room that the telepathic interrogation was taking place. Delilah's seemed to be dragging on for hours, since it was now close to eight and they had started near five. He kept glancing at his watch. His clothes were wrinkled from the long day, but he could care less.

Finally, someone left the room, but not the woman Hank was hoping for. It was the telepath, who pulled him to the side. "You are never going to believe this..." she started. Hank made one last thought of the crazy things he had seen in his long life.


	7. Moving Success

Sandy grunted as she wrestled the packing tape on yet another labeled box. She felt used for helping Delilah pack, but the extra hundred for the much needed help persuaded her. Normally, she would be at her house, with Nolan, watching movies with the baby. However, Delilah pouted with those big stormy eyes and pleaded for the help. The teen would never admit it aloud, but she was going to miss the sweetheart of a neighbor.

Delilah, on the other side of the house, was religiously listing all the items that was in the boxes that she carefully loaded. The nursery, her bedroom, Danielle's old bedroom, the two bathrooms and the closets were already done, except that nothing had been moved into the huge U-Haul in the driveway. Wiping some sweat off her brow, she glanced at the thankfully still sleeping baby.

"Oh, you are so cute." she whispered and kissed the infant's cheek.

The living room was being fairly easy to box up, since everything was in convient angles and box-shapes already. The couches, tables and other items were being left alone, since they could be easily loaded into the truck. Delilah had called Shelly to have some of her over-sized cousins to manhandle the things into the truck.

Smiling, Delilah moved from box to box to write on the side with a Sharpie. With that task finally completed, she went to check up on Sandy, who was boxing up dishes in the original boxes. Delilah had actually crawled into the rarely used attic to retrieve them, since she would love for them to survive the trip. Smiling at the sweaty teen, who was muttering profanities at the box she was currently trying to figure out how the dishes fit.

Leaning against the door frame, Delilah tried not to giggle. "You don't happen to play Tetris do you?" she asked the teen, who turned from her sailor-stream of curses to the older woman.

Blue eyes narrowed. "No..." she trailed off. "But I will figure out these damn boxes!" proclaimed the frustrated girl, who froze instantly as Nolan was roused from his slumber.

Delilah saved the girl from her offspring to lift the whimpering child to her chest. Shushing the fussy infant, she heard the doorbell ring. "Sandy, can you go get that?" she asked in the same tone that she was using to console the baby.

Scampering away from the frustrating chore, the teen eagerly opened the door only to glare at the figure on the doorstep. "Delilah! There's a dude in a suit on the porch!" screamed the girl, behind her.

Confused, Delilah entered the living room only to laugh. "Oh, hello, Mr. McCoy." she greeted, Nolan clinging to her t-shirt.

Sandy looked at her. "Please tell me that he isn't the eye-candy you promised that would be loading up the truck." pleaded the teen.

Delilah's face went from pale to crimson in less than two seconds. Hank raised an eyebrow at the comment. "I can assure you, young lady, that I am not the eye-candy that Delilah promised." he replied, as Delilah tried not to burst a leak and fall over laughing.

Sandy, who was very uninterested, took Nolan to the kitchen. Delilah ushered the blue mutant inside. "Sorry about Sandy, the only way I could get her to help me pack was to bribe her with a hundred bucks and some sweaty eye-candy." she explained.

Amused, Hank chuckled. "It's quite alright, but may I ask where you are moving?" he inquired, eyeing the various boxes and lack of items on the walls.

The young woman sobered slightly. "I'm moving to New York... This city has too many bad memories." Hank felt a pang of pain at the sadness in her voice, but Delilah smiled brightly. "I have a new lovely house in Park Slope." she informed Hank, who looked at her surprised.

"You're moving so soon?" he asked, slightly intrigued.

Delilah started to fidget. "I decided that if I lost my job, I'd sell the house and move to another city." She gazed longingly at the living room. "After all, this place is the first home that Danielle and I made for ourselves."

Trying not to comfort the woman, Hank smiled, without baring his teeth from reflex. "Then I may have a nice proposition for you." he began, trying not to fidget as Delilah fixed her gray eyes firmly on him.

Taking on the defense, the shorter woman crossed her arms under her breasts. "Oh? What is that?" she demanded.

Surprised by her sudden change of demeanor, the man tried not to squirm under her glare. "I wanted you to be my new secretary." he spoke quickly, hoping the answer would calm her.

Delilah raised an eyebrow. "Why?" she questioned, dumbfounded.

"Why not?" countered Hank, making the younger woman glare at him. Trying to better explain, Hank paused for a moment. "You did enough work for three secretaries, without losing your patience and very wondrously. You dealt with a lecherous boss and clients. You kept the most accurate and detailed records I have ever had the pleasure of reading." complimented the mutant, trying to persuade her.

Delilah thought on it, but she spied Sandy trying to hide beside the doorway listening. "You have today to convince me. Start by helping me pack and loading the U-Haul." bargained the female, with a smirk.

Unbuttoning his cuffs and starting to roll them up his forearms, Hank smirked, showing a small bit of fang. Delilah gazed at the thick blue fur that his cuffs had concealed, interested. "Alright, you drive a hard deal, but I will not fail." swore Hank, noting Delilah's apparent interest in his mutation.

Sandy looked like she was going to swoon in the corner of Delilah's eye. Turning to the teen, she scooped the infant out of her arms. "Oh, and help Sandy with Nolan here." she added, winking at Hank as she disappeared into the kitchen to help with the packing of dishes.

Hank tried not to pale as he glanced at the baby for the brief moment that the small child was cradled in his mother's arms. Shaking his head, he began to follow the young women to the kitchen. "You are going to be the death of me." he muttered.

* * *

Delilah and Sandy were trying not to drool as they directed the loaned muscle from Shelly. The three young men, ages from twenty-five to seventeen, were definite members of the Mitlow clan, with their distinct green eyes and lean muscles. They wrestled furniture in at Delilah's Tetris expertise, getting coated in a nice glean of sweat.

The teen fanned herself as she took a break from the kitchen to stare greedily at the eye-candy, two of whom had stripped off their shirts. "Hot damn, Delilah. You know how to deliver." she groaned.

The slightly older woman laughed as she watched them as well. "I know." she stated as she waltzed inside. It was getting close to noon, the morning was long. If she could admit it, she would let Hank help the men outside, but Sandy wouldn't be getting her peepshow.

As she walked into the kitchen, Delilah almost had a heart attack. Earlier, Hank had asked if she would mind if he removed his shoes, so he wouldn't track dirt around the house as he helped inside. Of course, Delilah agreed, since her and Sandy were barefoot as well. Well, since Sandy still had trouble with the packaging the dishes came in, Hank offered to do it so she could help Delilah pack up her bedroom.

Cradled in one large arm was a very happy Nolan, who was suckling on the fur of that arm, while Hank use his other arm and one leg to carefully tape the top of one box. Hank's feet were like another pair of hands. Gaping at the doorway, she temporarily forgot how to breathe.

After finishing the difficult task of taping the box closed, Hank looked up, only to see the look of complete and utter shock on his hopefully new secretary's face. Bashfully, he stood on his feet, hiding them behind the box. "Sandy left me with the infant, who wanted to be held." he tried to explain, which snapped Delilah into reality.

Waving her hands, the young woman blushed deeply for staring. "Oh, I'm so sorry for staring." she apologized, fidgeting as she awkwardly stood in the doorway.

Hank forced himself to smile, since he could not blame the poor girl for being startled by his distasteful mutation. Nolan gurgled loudly and Hank awkwardly turned the infant onto his back, instead of having his belly pressed against Hank's furry forearm. Thankfully, the baby didn't seem to be interested in pulling on the fur, just suckling and drooling on it. Although the shift from the apparently edible fur, made the infant start to whine, preparing to scream and bawl. Sighing defeated, Hank returned him to his belly and the very wet fur.

Delilah giggled at the exchange. Nolan didn't normally like strangers, but seemed to like Mr. McCoy just fine. Her son wanted to use Hank as his personal pacifier. "I could feed him, so he isn't so hungerly trying to eat your arm." she joked, as Hank remembered that she was standing there.

Timidly, Hank shifted behind the boxes. "I could feed him with a bottle. He is a part of the deal." he explained, trying to not get close to the young mother in front of him.

"Nonsense." proclaimed Delilah, easily dodging boxes and claiming her son. Blushing, she glanced up at Hank. "Plus he finished off all the bottles I made."

Confused, Hank looked down at the shorter female. "Why can't you simply make another formula bottle?" he inquired, hating if he accidentally packed the precious bottles.

Turning a nice beet shade, Delilah tried to think of the most diplomatic way to avoid that question. "I don't use formula." she muttered, as she scampered out of the kitchen and into the safety of her room to make more bottles after Nolan ate. After she left, Hank pondered the question for less than a moment before his cheeks turned a very deep purple.

"Oh my stars and garters." he gasped.

* * *

Delilah slaved for the last time over her old stove. She was leaving this morning to drive all the way to New York. She had prepared enough bottles of milk for Nolan for the trip and she was going to have Shelly drive her Prius over later in the week. Since she only had some perishables left in the house, with some paper plates. She was going to make breakfast, load up Nolan and the baby bag, then drive until Nolan forced her to stop and rest.

Inside, Delilah was excited since she would be starting her new job as the secretary for Henry McCoy, the UN ambassador, on Monday. This left her almost a week to unpack and make her new home hers.

Stirring the jumbled mass of egg, milk, grilled chicken and bell peppers, the young mother was pleased with herself. She had managed to sell her house for a good amount more than what she bought it for, which helped pay for the house in New York. She had packed and loaded the U-Haul earlier than expected by a day. Sandy was a good helper, plus Hank and the three muscle-heads.

"Just another day in my life." she murmured as the scrambled eggs had a thick layer of the rest of the cheese poured on top. After she ate, she would have to bring the pan and spatula into the car as well and take out the trash of course.

Dividing a good portion onto a paper plate, Delilah got a plastic fork from the box from the last week. As she leaned against the island's counter top, she heard the doorbell ring. Growling, she set the food down and stalked over the answer it.

"Yes?" she hissed as she ripped the door open, to only regret those words.

Her employer, in a pair of slacks and a less expensive dress shirt, raised a very furry eyebrow at her. "Did I come at a bad time?" he inquired softly.

Recovering, Delilah opened the door for him to come in. "Oh, I'm so sorry. I thought I was home free... I just made breakfast." she rapidly explained, blushing softly.

Sniffing softly, Hank smiled. "It smells divine." he complimented, sincerely.

Wringing her hands together, Delilah led him to the mostly bare kitchen. Scooping up her meal, she watched him as he awkwardly stand. "So why are you here?" she politely questioned, since she didn't start until Monday.

"Oh, um." Hank blushed softly. "When I returned to my hotel room, it occurred to me that you planned to have a friend drive your vehicle to New York later in the week, since you were going to drive the U-Haul." he started. Glancing at Delilah, he finished. "Well, it wouldn't be safe for a baby car-seat to be in the front seat of a U-Haul, if god forbid, there was an accident."

Delilah's eyebrow furrowed together. "Well, how else am I going to get the U-Haul there?" she asked.

Hank gulped. "Well, I could drive the U-Haul, so that you and the little one can be safer in the car." he offered, timidly. "I have a rental to drive all the way back to New York, but I can cancel it to drive the U-Haul instead."

"You are willing to drive thirteen hours to New York with my U-Haul, so I don't have to with Nolan?" clarified Delilah, raising an eyebrow. Hank nodded and she walked to the stove, dumping the rest of the breakfast on another plate. Shoving the meal at Hank, she grinned. "Deal. Eat up."

* * *

As he backed up into a nice driveway that Delilah had directed him to, Hank wondered what on Earth he had gotten himself into. He had even offered to help Delilah unload the U-Haul, after they both got some much needed rest. Nolan had made the long drive extend by another hour from rest stops to change him and feed him.

The Prius easily pulled into the very long driveway. A visibly exhausted Delilah piled out. Hopping out of his own vehicle, Hank assisted her in bringing in the blankets and pillows that she unburied so that she could sleep in her new house tonight.

As she unlocked the front door, Hank followed her with the baby car-seat in one hand and an armful of blankets in the other. Falling to her knees, in the spacious living room, Delilah started to make a nest with the pillows and blankets.

Amused, Hank watched her for a bit before he locked both vehicles and set the keys on the banister near the front door. "I will save you." he swore softly, as Delilah unstrapped her son and pulled him close to her chest. "Goodnight Delilah." he said slightly louder.

Tired gray eyes gazed at the male in her front doorway. "Goodnight Hank. Safe trip home."

Chuckling, Hank hailed a cab with a suitcase in one hand. "That is one resilient woman." He thankfully got a cabdriver that didn't care what he looked like as long as he paid the fare.

As he got into his own apartment, the UN ambassador peeled off his shoes and socks before he even got to his bedroom. Easily unbuttoning his shirt, which was thrown somewhere in the room, he emptied his pockets and collapsed on the bed. "I am sleeping until noon," he proclaimed as he glance at the clock, which read 3:54 am.


	8. Working Drama

Delilah's professional attitude intimidated Hank, not that he'd openly admit it. However, he was fairly sure that his assistant, Pete, had gotten into many verbal disagreements with her, behind his back. Even with his enhanced hearing, he never heard the murmur of negative comments, though Delilah and Pete would more often than not, glare at each other. As he rubbed his temples, the mutant tried to figure out where he had gone wrong.

The Delilah at work was nothing like the laid-back mother he had met four weeks ago. She'd been working for him for two weeks now and he figured that she had a policy not to mix business with pleasure. At least, it was the best theory that he had come to as to why she was busybody, who drove Pete up the wall with her OCD with scheduling and planning very little detail.

"I'm never going to allow those two to come on the same trip with me, ever." swore Hank, as he cast a long gaze at the ceiling.

The ambassador had several meetings with various senators today. They were all here to discuss why Hank should do what they suggest; for example retire, die, ect. The first was yet to come, but he already had a slight headache.

As if on que, Delilah opened the double doors to his office. "Mr. McCoy, this is Senator Burr of North Carolina." introduced Delilah, who was straight-backed and stiff. She was lovely in a khaki pencil skirt and slightly ruffled pale pink blouse with her ever sensible black and cork pumps. She also wore those small twin bracelets, one on each wrist, for as long as he could remember.

Raising from his chair, Hank gladly shook the Senator's hand firmly. "Hello, Senator Burr." he greeted before both men settled into their seats. Delilah waited patiently behind the politician. "Would you like some coffee or tea?" he inquired.

"Oh, I'd prefer some black coffee." drawled the politician. Delilah left at that point, knowing Hank would most likely want some ginger and chamomile tea.

Hank settled into a basic conversation, asking questions such as how his next campaign was going and problems in the Senate. As Burr asked about a topic of the UN, Delilah came in with a balanced tray with two mugs of steaming liquids. Silently, she walked to Hank's side and set down his mug first, showing respect to her boss and then the guest.

Hank was opening his mouth to thank Delilah for the tea, which the smell alone was calming his nerves when he saw her eyes open and her body jolt as something happened on the other side of his desk. His eyes narrowed as Delilah donned the mask of indifference. "I will be filing some paperwork. If you need me, please page." she informed Hank, who was slightly confused, though it did not show.

"Thank you for the beverages." commented Hank. Waving his hand dismissively, Hank allowed Delilah to escape the room.

Senator Burr eagerly sipped his coffee, as if he wanted to pretend nothing happened. Not wanting to be dragged through another political battle of wits, Hank sipped his tea, which he noted to be softly sweetened with honey. Burr started back on his interrupted path.

On the other side of the door, Delilah was fuming. "How he dare he grope my ass." she hissed. Sure, she had excepted leers, but not unprovoked touches. Pete, the smart man, saw the young woman's expression and hid in his office. As soon as she got behind her desk, which she hated to be in the open beside Hank's double doors. She was expected to play guard dog. It also meant that she had no privacy except at lunch.

'Or the filing room.' she added, casting a short glance at the stack on her desk.

Working for a UN ambassador seemed to be more work than it was worth at times. At least a lawyer's filing was by name of the client, but for Hank, it was sorted by topic, political office, pro- or anti-mutant, and then name. That sorting system often confused Delilah when she was sent for a specific file.

Smiling as she typed away on the keyboard, checking the very complex schedule that Pete was constantly updating. She wasn't the one constantly with a headset on; thank God. However, Delilah was the one who had to attend the trips, make sure the schedule was upheld, filing was completed, mail was sorted, and important phone calls answered. She had long come to the conclusion that Hank was a masochist.

The ever reliable chain of secretaries had kept Delilah informed of the people she was dealing with. She had also learned many things about her employer as well. Most of which was things that made her grateful to the former secretary, whom had left on maternity leave. That woman kept very detailed notes of Hank's mood in correlation of certain people to either avoid or act a particular way with.

Pete, unaware of this list, actually filled the day's meetings with some of these mentioned. Delilah was prepared for World War Three, not her ass being grabbed by a lecher. The urge to slap him was almost too much for her.

"Let's find some skeletons." Delilah murmured, cheerily. In one arm, the woman gathered her pager and the huge stack of files into one arm to be pressed against her chest. All the filing was in the basement, why people didn't back everything up digitally was beyond her.

* * *

Delilah's bun was slightly frizzed from the last few hours of resorting all the files to suit her needs. The pro- and anti-mutant stance was always hard to know so she changed the color of the files. Green for known pro. Red for known anti. Yellow for unknown or varied. Then she sorted the files by last name, then topic. The tags for the names noting political affiliation.

This resorting was annoying Delilah to an extreme. She had even typed up a key for the people who entered later, while waiting for a very late Governor. Hank seemed to be much calmer, though she created a list of items to sneak into his office. A lavender reed diffuser, for stressful people and situations and twinkies, which were always disappearing at random times, to be placed into that almost bare space of his.

'I should shoot the person who thought that this system would work.' Delilah mentally growled.

Piles of now empty folders surrounded the young woman, as well and emptied filing cabinets. New tabs, pens and the new folders were slowing be transferred for information as she slowly worked through the rather large room. She even made alphabet labels on the cabinets.

As Delilah was clearing out a particular cabinet, the folders had no names, but rather a large stamp "Confidential" in cerulean. Raising an eyebrow, Delilah glanced around before depositing the folders in the bottom of the "C" cabinet, noting to read them.

Fidgeting with her pencil skirt, the young woman continued to sort and label the folders and cabinets until her pager or the timer for the next guest rang. By the time the afternoon came to a close, with the last stack and visitor, both Delilah and Hank were slightly crabby.

Throwing herself into the last mile, Delilah finished just before five. It was nine hours of labor that she could have divided between days, but it was so much easier to file things now. Pleased, Delilah climbed the stairs for hopefully the last time that day.

Hank had been surprised, when he finally emerged from his office, that Delilah was not at her desk. Her computer screen saver was a beautiful video and soft music of a fantasy scene. Raising a furry eyebrow, he pressed a key to stop the dance only to discover that the scene refused to change.

"Strange, but protected." he muttered, pleased that even when her desk was unattended, she covered her tracks.

Delilah had her arms crossed under her breasts as she watched Hank try to figure out her screen saver. Nathan, a friend of Danielle, made it to protect her from intrusions and such when she started working for Kinzer and Kinzer. She cleared her throat politely, making her employer look guiltily up.

"I... um..." Hank was tongue-tied like a naughty school boy. He was fidgeting in his suit, like he expected the mother to scold him.

Delilah smiled as she sat in her chair. "You did not hire a nitwit." she softly chided. "I know to protect my files, because it would protect you." she explained, looking up at the mutant.

Hank's cheeks turned a slightly darker blue. "I apologized. I assumed..." Delilah held up a hand to halt his sentence.

"Never assume, asking never hurts." she quoted Danielle, who had applied this to work and play. "Also, be impeccable to your word, do your best and never take things personally." she added as her fingers flew across the keyboard to unlock the monitor.

Hank raised an eyebrow. "_The Four Agreements_?" he inquired, once having read the book.

"By Don Miquel Ruiz." confirmed Delilah as she checked her messages. "By the way, your filing room has been completely reorganized." Hank's blue eyes widen. "The previous system was beyond annoying." announced Delilah. "There's a key by the door to help." Smiling, the young woman looked up from the computer at the mutant.

Hank was deep in thought as if debating something. "How is Nolan?" the question was sincere.

Delilah's eyes got distant. "I spend less time with him, but he's a very happy baby." Her hand drifted to her heart. "Nan is a sweetheart too." Her grateful eyes looked at the mutant. "Thank you for taking such good care of us."

The blue of his cheeks turned purple, as Hank rubbed his massive hands together. "Well, I'm glad that Nan is being such a kind girl." He smiled, without showing teeth as usual. "She was such a trouble maker when I first met her." His eyes were distant in memory.

Smiling slightly, Delilah locked her computer as she idly watched the male in front of her desk. As she gathered her belongings, she smiled. "Well, it's my turn to make dinner. See you tomorrow." she promised as she left Hank to his thoughts, which continued as he entered his office to leave himself.

* * *

Hank was off for a lunch with one of the many politicians that wanted him to argue for their values on the global level. Rolling her eyes, Delilah knew that Hank wouldn't change for them. Luckily the President was pro-mutant, or else Hank would be out of work.

Sitting in the middle of the filing room, the young secretary was wearing a pair of black slacks, blue button-up shirt and her favorite pumps. Her sleeves were rolled up as she seemed to be doing research on the upcoming conferrence. However, half the files were of more confidential nature.

Stormy orbs absorbed the information, but one name struck her. "Sarah Kinzer?" she murmured softly as she picked up the file to read. It was a case file, including the gory details of her death and attempted disposition of the body. Growling lowly, she read the notes from Hank, the detectives and other various experts.

They all pointed the motive of Sarah's death at the Friends of Humanity, or FOH for short. Delilah's eyes narrowed as she finished the file. Greedy for more information, she read all the files for the FOH in the confidential files, keeping it to an hour so avoid being caught.

As she started to clean up her mess, knowing her lunch hour and possibly Hank's would be over soon, Delilah spied a list of seemingly random words and names. 'What on Earth is this?' she silently wondered as she picked up the manila folder. Quickly, she looked over the paper and found a note.

The intercepted transfers between Friends of Humanity with known Associates. Still not deciphered. Biting her glossy lip, Delilah skimmed the page and could see why no one seemed to be able to solve the messages. Her pager beeped and she squeaked.

After the unsightly jump, she put up the files and started to climb the stair toward her desk. Hank was back and requested a cup of Nan's personal blend tea. Plastering on a smile, Delilah entered his office with the cup. "Did the lunch go well?" she inquired, as Hank was gathering a book to read for his two hour break between meetings and such.

Pausing, the mutant glanced at the younger woman. "Not exactly." he admitted, as his eyes stared at the cup.

Smirking, Delilah placed the fresh brew on a coaster. "Well, at least you can enjoy the tea and a book for a while. I'll lock the door, if you want to be a bat." she teased as she stood.

Hank smiled thankfully. "Don't lock it, but please knock?" His voice silently inquired her to talk to him, like they did for hours while moving her into her new home.

Stormy eyes looked at the ground, as Delilah backed up for the safety of her desk. "I'll be right outside if you need me." she offered as she closed the double doors.

Pondering the distance between them, Hank wondered if he was too forward when he assumed that she would be the same laid-back woman at work. He smiled as he noticed his mistake; he assumed she would be. As he sipped at the heavenly mixture, he glanced at the wall were her desk was.

"I'll take away your fear." he vowed. "You need to open to someone at some point." Hank finished his drink before expertly perching, upside down, on the beam above his desk. "I hope that your mind will heal." he prayed, for the first time in a while for the protection of the woman that intrigued him so.


End file.
